


Not by Blood, but by Choice

by GoldfishFiasco



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: A+ Parenting, Adaar Hair Styles for Days, Adopted Siblings, Chapter written by GoldfishFiasco and Lilkjay, Clingy Lavellan, Confident Cullen Rutherford, Epic Friendship, F/M, Flipping the War Table, Fluff, Instant Attraction, Iron Bull Bad Puns, Loss of Virginity, Miri pees on Taj (as toddler!), NSFW, Original Inquisitor Backstory, Plays Hard to Get Cassandra Pentaghast, Protective Adaar, Scrunchies, Secret Relationships, Secret pregnancy, Sexual Assault (Chapter 1), Slow Burn, Smut, Taj is so done with this shit, Taj reads poetry, Tal-Vashoth, The NOT so joys of having a little sister, The joys of having a little sister, birds and the bees talk, defying authority, long-term injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldfishFiasco/pseuds/GoldfishFiasco
Summary: Accompanying a minor noble to the conclave as personal guard should have been easy. Providing protection and muscle for coin was routines for his group, then spend the money in the nearby village for whatever caught his sister's eye. What Taj did not consider, however, was an massive explosion, dooming him as sole survivor and Herald of Andraste.How is he supposed to protect his sister (and handle her antics), while additionally being tasked to stitch the sky, save the world, and prevent the mages and templars from fighting like children?Not to mention catch the eye of a certain Lady Seeker, who seems adamant to make him stumble and stutter whenever he so much as glances her way?He didnotsign up for this.





	Not by Blood, but by Choice

**Author's Note:**

> "So, in this story, a lot will happen. My brother becomes Inquisitor-"  
> "With whom are you talking?"  
> "- And He finds his one true love. It is very cute and-"  
> "Miri? What are you talking about?"  
> "Oh, and I get to ride the Commanders dick. Like... a lot! *finger guns*"  
> "MOST CERTAINLY NOT YOUNG LADY!"

 

* * *

 

**9:25 Dragon - Free Marches near the Nevarran border**

**16 years before the Conclave**

  


"I need a moment," Taj informed Shokrakar, "Just a short walk. Ten minutes, if permitted." Standing his ground and keeping his face stone still, Tahjier Adaar's emerald green eyes pleaded with the mercenary leader. She narrowed her eyes at the young Qunari and exchanged a pointed look with the group’s Saarebas, a female named Hissra, whom had taken Adaar in as an apprentice a little over a year ago. Hissra gave a curt nod, showing compassion towards the youth and Shokrakar's gaze narrowed even further at Taj.

 "Five minutes and do not dally, there is work to be done."  She snapped and pushed past him without so much as a second glance. Taj closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head.

 "Gratitude, Hissra." The Saarebas gave her charge an approving nod, placed her hand on his already large shoulder, and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Take the time you need. If Shokrakar says something more, she can address the issue with me." He nodded silently, and head off in the opposite direction.

 

Earlier that evening, the Valo-Kas came across what would hopefully be the last of the Tevinter Slavers,  which they had been hunting for nearly two weeks. Slowly, but surely and with darkness as their cover, the Qunari-mercenaries used their vast talents and brute strength to ambush; overpower and slaughter those slavers. Following that, Taj and the others were able to free the elves taken captive, and arranged for a passage, to guarantee them a safe return to their clans. Although the work was rewarding, it was also taxing and began to wear on Taj's mental faculties.

So much hate, so much carnage, so much bloodshed - and for what? Elves being captured, ripped away from their families like it was nothing, sold to the highest bidder like livestock. The thought sickened him and made him shudder. What hurt Taj most was the children. The fear in their eyes. Apprehension and despair, that after the slavers were gone, now the Qunari would be the next to prey upon the weak and the helpless.

That must have been the same fear... Taj shook himself out of horrific thoughts from his past and closed his eyes, reassuring himself. Concentrating on his breathing, he calmed himself by reciting the words he used as mantra whenever all seemed to be too overwhelming.

 

"You are here to learn, to help, to heal. Valo-Kas does what is right - Not what is easy. You help people, Taj... you help people.”

 

Just as Taj turned towards the direction of the slavers camp, the wind shifted behind him and the faintest of noises pricked his pointed ears. Were they...voices? Taj paused and listened again. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind. All senses on high alert tracing the direction to where these voices came from. The wind whipped through the trees and now much more clearly men's voices were heard. Wherever these men were they were coming closer. Taj sniffed the air as another gust of wind blew past him. Humans. Definitely humans. Awful, foul smelling, stinking humans. So much so that Taj wrinkled his nose in disgust. More slavers? Had to be, but how many? This needed to be investigated. He needed to go back and inform Shokrakar, but something, a gut feeling, told him not to. Taj had an urge, a need, to go investigate alone. Something, possibly someone, needed him and only him.

Tucking his mantle around his body, he crept through the forest, and stayed close to the shadows. Slowly and silently, he tracked the men back to a small cave not far from the slavers main camp. There, Taj pressed himself along the outside rock wall and listened. He could make out four distinct voices. Three of men, their tones, and dialects each slightly differing but men nonetheless. The last voice though seemed to be whimpering, no... crying and those were not the sounds of a man. No that was definitely a child. Probably one of the elven children stolen from the Dalish and that made Taj's blood boil. Quietly moving closer to the entrance of the cave, Taj was able to make out shadows dancing on the walls and hear every word clear as day.

 

"Why'd ya have to go and muck up her legs like that? She'll never fetch enough coin now." The first man said irritably, almost whining.

"I just maimed her a little..." The second man sneered looking right into the girl's eyes, rotten-toothed smile grinning from ear to ear. "Besides, wouldn't want a pretty little thing like this gettin' away, now would we?" He licked his lips, a sound Taj could audibly hear, causing him to grit his teeth.

"Ya did more than just maim her Smitty, ya bashed her bloody kneecaps in with the pommel of yer sword! Lil'bit ain't never gonna walk again, that's for damn sure." the third man spouted and the second man laughed darkly.

"W-Why'd we drag her out here anyway, the groups bound to know we're missin' by now, one of them be missin' too. If we bring back a broken child they will short us out of our cut, I know they will." the first man said shakily, clearly not on board with his fellow companions.

"Who says we're bringing her back ya crybaby? As far as the lot of them knows, she ran away, now move!" the second man shoved the first out of the way. "Think of this as a little treat to ourselves. For a job... well... done." It was the third man’s turn to laugh darkly and he clapped man number two on the shoulder, then peered down at the little girl with black eyes.

"Go one little knife ear, try and get away... Ol'Smitty here enjoys a good struggle.."

 

Was it the sinister way laughter poured from the men's lips, the clink of a belt buckle and trousers being undone that echoed throughout the small cave, or the way the child, no older than five years, sobbed uncontrollably, pinned by her now useless legs, that caused Taj to spring into action? Maybe it was all three but the moment Taj made himself known, the lavender-haired little girl found her voice and shrieked something awful. All three men froze and whirled around. Eyes widened as they took in the sheer size of the Qunari standing before them. With his more than seven feet, Taj loomed over the men. Thick horns already starting to curl, emerald eyes turned black bored into their souls, and his upper lip pulled into a snarl that would rival a bear's. The stunned silence was only broken by another of the little girl's ear piercing screams. Instinctively, Taj wanted to shield her from whatever came next. In one swift movement, he pulled the strings of his mantle and tossed the large cloth over the girl, shielding her small frame.

It was the work of a moment for Taj to overpower the three bags of human shit that stood before him. The timid one stupidly tried to run, but Taj underestimated the coward and caught him easily. With a twist and a snap he broke his neck, damn near severing his head from his shoulders. With a sneer, Taj launched the lifeless body to the back of the small cave and then engaged the larger of the two remaining slavers. The man's sword was raised high but trembling in his gloved hands and with a flick of Taj's wrist, lightning shot from his fingertips. Using the steel of the sword as a conductor he held his magic in place as the good-for-nothing shook violently until the he collapsed to the ground. Finally, Taj turned on the third and final man. This was the one they called Smitty, he could tell by the sounds pouring from his rotten mouth as the scum pleaded for his life. Lifting Ol'Smitty by the chest plate, Taj leveled him with his own stare.

 

"Ppp - Please Ser... We wasn't gonna do nothin'. Jus- Just scare her a little so she'd cooperate." Taj growled at the man’s stutter and spat in his face.

"Try again, Human." The man screamed and one hand clutched Taj's wrist, clawing at the Qunari to release him.

"Please Ser! We was jus' tryin' to make a living!" Eyes narrowed at the poor excuse of a  man as he struggled and just as Taj shifted to make his final move the creep’s left hand jerked and smashed a vile into the right side of Taj’s face.

Taj roared in pain and recognized what had happened immediately. Acid. Enough to possibly kill a human but not enough to inflict major damage to the tough skin of a Qunari. It was more than enough to piss Taj off though and he growled in pure unadulterated anger. Burning pain radiated throughout the right side of his face but he pushed through, determined to end this lying bastard's life. The man was now lying on the ground, clearly not thinking his plan through for he clutched his burning hand to his chest and screamed. "Enough!" Taking a step towards Smitty, Taj enjoyed the advantage of long muscular legs as he stomped the lying sack of shit's face into the ground. Silence. Blood gushed from the ruined skull of Ol'Smitty, but that didn't register with Taj as he picked up his limp body and the body of the fried slaver and tossed them into the pile with their nearly headless friend.

What now? Water! Eyes scanned the small camp and Taj found a spare water skin rather quickly. Opening the top with haste he doused his face and hissed as his marred skin burned further. That would have to do until he could properly have a healer look at his face. Groaning, he thought of Shokrakar and what she might say when he returned to the slavers camp, face bleeding and melted and... The Girl!  

 

Ignoring the throbbing pain radiating throughout one side of his face, Taj knelt down and gently uncovered the girl. She shrank away from him immediately, yet her violet eyes dared to give him another glance when he did not advance or try to harm her in any way. Time. He gave her time and when she fully looked at him he put a forefinger to his lips, requesting her silence. Thinking back to what he had learned, Taj pointed to his chest and said the Dalish word for friend.

"Falon," he kept pointing to his chest and then said the Dalish word for help or what he hoped he remembered was help.

"Halani. I halani. I falon." He nodded and timidly the little girl nodded back. Taj let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Pain. That hurt more so that he realized but he didn't care. She understood. Progress. They were making progress.

 

Slowly, he lowered more of his mantle to reveal her legs. The sight made his heart ache. Both kneecaps were completely shattered, the area swollen and turning an ugly red-blue color. How was he... what was he supposed to do? Taj couldn't move her in her current state, it would cause her far too much pain. Magic. He could heal her, or at least try... Hissra said his healing magic was strong and getting stronger. Pointing to himself again and then to the girl’s knees, Taj repeated the few Dalish words he knew until she understood. ‘Halani. Falon.

Gently, Taj cupped his large hands over her swollen kneecaps. She winced in pain and tried to wriggle away but Taj closed his eyes and again repeated those two simple words as green cooling magic radiated from his hands. The little girl's breath caught and he flicked his eyes up to look at her. Pain no longer showed on her face. Fear, confusion, and maybe even a little hope were all still there but the pain was gone, at least for a moment. He removed his hands and sat back on his knees looking over his handiwork.

 

Getting to his feet, Taj stretched and rose to his full height. He watched the little girl look up and then up again with bright violet eyes. Her mouth parted as she stared in awe and it made Taj chuckle softly. He couldn't help but wonder if she had ever seen a Qunari before in her life. Probably not by the way she was staring but it didn't seem to matter, for she reached out to him with both hands. Surprised, by her actions, he followed suit and took her small hands into his large ones, helping her to her feet. The little girl took one step forward and winced, then tried another and squeaked in pain. She tried again and again to walk, tiny grunts and audibly sharp inhales of breath filled the cave before her little knees buckled and she sobbed in pain, still holding onto his hands. Taj helped the girl down to the ground again and then padded around his pockets for the container of elfroot salve he always kept with him. Uncorking the cap he scooped up a small glob and applied it to one knee and then the other. He could tell by her face that salve was working for her tears had stopped. She looked at him for a moment with a curious smile and then stuck her fingers into the green paste. Reaching out, she ever so softly brought the salve to his marred face, rubbing the paste in just like he had done to her. Taj closed his eyes and grit his teeth as the girl scooped up more mixture and applied it to all the wounded places she could find. The pain was indescribable but he had to remain strong. She was helping him just as he helped her. How could he tell her no?

When the little girl was finished, she looked at her fingers, sniffed and made a face. Looking Taj right in the eyes she wiped her hand clean on his pants and giggled. That little giggle warmed his heart and then she did the unthinkable. Small arms wrapped themselves around his neck as best she could and hugged him. "Falon" the little girl murmured into his neck and Taj nearly let a tear escape his emerald eyes. ‘Keep it together.’ he chided himself and scooped the little girl up into his large muscled arms. With her face buried his neck, he picked up his mantle and draped it over her. They needed to get out of this place and he needed to shield her from all the carnage that occurred, Maker knows she probably had heard enough.

 

Once far enough away from the cave, Taj uncovered the little girl's head and watched as she stared up at him with big violet eyes. He though for a moment and then pointed to himself again. "Ir Taj." He repeated the motion and said his name again more slowly this time. "Ir. Taj." She giggled and echoed:

''Taj! Taj! Taj!”, drawing out the single letters. He nodded to her, smiled and then pointed to her and shrugged, looking expectant. The little girl thought for a moment and then, in the smallest voice imaginable, squeaked: 

"Miri! Miri! Miri! Miri!" Taj smiled again, wider this time even though it hurt more than he could describe.

"Miri... That's a pretty name," She beamed up at Taj and then laid her head on his shoulder. Telling her to rest with a whispered, "Hamin, Miri", he tucked the mantle around her small form and leisurely made his way back to camp.

 

Upon arrival, Taj noticed much of what had gone down had been cleaned up. The mercenaries and elves had cleared out the deceased slavers, people were making camp, food was being cooked, and arrangements were being made. Taj couldn't help but wonder how long  he actually had been gone. Regardless, he had a duty to fulfill and that meant getting Miri back to her clan.

Approaching a group of Dalish huddled around a campfire he addressed the one known as the Keeper, Deshanna, and revealed Miri to her. “Thiliamir!” She staggered forward in disbelief and joy, the book which rested in her lap dropping to the ground carelessly.

 

“Mamae!” High pitched, the girl answered, letting go of her savior instantly. Deshanna noted dully that the Qunari wasn’t that eager to free her from the circle of his arms - and couldn’t hold it against him. Thiliamir, or Miri, as the clan used to call her, had this effect on people. Those violet eyes, inherited by her long-dead father, harmonizing with fragile, delicate features in face and frame, hinting that even as an adult, Miri would have her share of admirers. Dried blood matted strands of lavender colored hair, barely brushing her daughter’s shoulders. The hair clip, a gift from one of the hunters, was gone. It told Deshanna volumes of how hard her little girl must have fought to survive, for this accessory was a dearly loved possession. Trembling hands reached out to take her little girl - but as fingertips brushed along the child’s body, she froze. The torn clothes, bruises, and scratches, telling of fear and pain. Eyes closing, an unnamed emotion washed over her face. Then, after a few heartbeats and wrapping both arms tight around her child, Deshanna regarded the Qunari with a solemn gaze.

 

“Ma serannas,” She began and tilted her head towards the place she just vacated, noting him to follow and take a seat. There was a question in her eyes, even as her hands wandered, old magic humming in the air as she took in the damage, injuries inflicted by the shem. The Qunari’s lingering magic tangled with hers, and Deshanna felt taken aback for a moment at the raw power and potential. If he were an elf, she thought silently, she would have taken him under her wing, raised him as her first immediately. But that place, with luck, was reserved for Miri. Focusing particularly on her little girl’s lower abdomen, Deshanna breathed a sigh of relief as one of her worst fears wasn’t confirmed. To think, that her little girl… By the hand of a shem- no. Her hold tightened, while Miri in her usual manner, buried her face in the crook of Mamae’s neck. Little fingers nestled with the pendant on the long leather cord, the stylized leaf of an acorn tree soon to be adorned by even more imprints of tiny, sharp teeth. But Deshanna did not stop her, the soft smile of motherly pride on her lips, however, vanishing, as she reached her daughter’s legs. The flinch and squeak that Miri made was barely noticeable, and wise eyes closed a second time.

“What happened?” She inquired in a voice, less strong that she aimed for, the grief over the extent of her daughter’s injury clouding her senses. In that very moment, she knew… She knew. To learn, how - it would not change anything. But maybe it would make her duty easier. Kneecaps destroyed beyond repair, not even old Dalish magic able to heal it. This injury, it doomed Miri. Labeled her as baggage, redundant. In a dalish clan, there was no place for a disabled child - not even, if it was the one of the keeper itself. Each hand was needed, mouths to feed, souls to protect. She would not cry in front of this Qunari, but underserved rage bubbled up in her. How dare this man, who smiled so softly down at her daughter - bring her back at all? It would have been easier, kinder, to let her die. Even if it meant, that Deshanna’s heart would have been broken at the news. Easier to bear, than what she had to do now. Not as mother… but as the keeper of Clan Lavellan.

 

"Three slavers took her away. One crushed her kneecaps with the Pommel of his sword-" Taj said, but didn't get further. With venom in her eyes, Deshanna glared at him.

“Why did you bring her back!?” Hissed between clenched teeth, hands curling around her girl’s lithe frame.

“Excuse me?" Taj paused narrowing his eyes at the female. "Forgive me but... Did you honestly just ask me why I brought your daughter back to you?!” He noted her anger and irritation, but for the life of him, he could not understand why. "She is your daughter, is she not? I saved her from the men who captured your clan. Saved her for you. Forgive me, but I do not seem to understand what the problem is, Deshanna." Clearly Irritated, Taj folded his massive arms across his chest and clenched his teeth waiting for the Keeper's answer.

 

Internally, Deshanna reared back. For one, because that Qunari, not even an adult yet, dared to address her this intimate. Secondly, no one ever spoke to her like this. All gratitude for saving Miri’s life melted away and her hand came to rest to cover her daughter’s ears. She did not understand the common tongue, still, Deshanna felt ashamed to speak out loud, what this Qunari - unknowingly - had forced upon her.

“If there is only an ounce of healer ability in you,” She began and her heart clenched as she felt tiny fingers tug at the necklace, chewing noises drifting up, “You are aware of the severeness of her injury. Our clan can’t-” She cleared her throat and corrected herself, a few seconds of silence hanging in the air as she sought for different words to phrase it. It wasn’t a matter of not… being able to do it. Not alone, at least. However, she wasn’t so foolish to admit a dalish clan’s weakness. Not even to someone, who brought back their future. Their da’lens.

“Thiliamir,” Deshanna used her daughter’s full name on purpose, internally distancing herself from the girl wiggling in her trembling arms, “She will never be able to walk again. To- to fight! To protect...” Tears gathered in her eyes but she forced them down, her gaze this way appearing hard and cold.

“Her life was forfeit, the moment that shem destroyed her legs. By saving her, you only extended her misery!“ The words left her lips, and with the last syllable spoken, her heart turned to ice. The dagger, tucked into her belt, now felt so heavy. By Mythal, what had she done to deserve this? To kill her own daughter, for the sake of the Clan`s survival?

“It would have been kinder-” She sighed and shook her head, “It does not matter.” Long fingers tangled in silken strands of lavender colored hair, “Please go now. There is a lot to prepare, so Falon’din can welcome her at his side.”

  


Eyes widening, Taj addressed the clan's keeper with a series of stunned blinks as his jaw dropped. The Keeper couldn't be serious! She couldn't be, but the more Deshanna spoke, the clearer Taj realized she was, indeed serious.

 "How... Wha... You Can-" Taj closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, tried to calm his nerves. His nerves were raw before rescuing Miri, and now, now the keeper was treading on thin ice. Never in his short life of sixteen years, had Taj wanted to physically injure a female. But now, hearing Miri's mother speak this heartless... To realize, she would throw away her child because of an injury was mind-boggling to him. Reminding himself not to yell, Taj chose his words

"You do realize this is a choice correct? You don't _have_ to do this. Miri will grow up just fine, her legs will still be able to work albeit, not as well as they used too. Your daughter is a brave little girl, smart and caring. She is a fighter Deshanna. She deserves to live."

 

Eyes narrowing, Deshanna listened to the young Qunari’s rant. It hurt her, to hear aloud what Miri’s father used to say about her too. ‘She is brave. Smart. One day, she will be a fighter. A mage, just like her mother!’ Her hands trembled as she lowered her gaze to her little daughter, an invisible dagger embedding itself in her heart as those violet eyes, the eyes of her one true love, looked back at her. 

“Don’t speak so careless of things you don’t understand.” Deshanna more whispered than said, “The clan can not keep her, and I rather guide the blade cross her throat myself, than let her die in the woods alone and cruelly. This is the only way.”

 

Taj seethed in anger as the keeper disregarded his words and sealed Miri's fate by dismissing him to "prepare". Fear and pain struck, plunging directly into the Qunari’s heart. "No!" Getting to his feet, Taj stared down at the pair of them. "I cannot let you do this. No. I will not let you do this. She is a child, an innocent. Give her to me. Let me take care or her, let me give her a chance. She deserves that much after all she has been through." At this her head snapped up, eyes with unshed tears blinking, till she could see the qunari - her daughter’s salvation clearly. But she did not dare to hope and shook her head slowly.

“My daughter only knows the life of the dalish. She does not even speak the common language.” Rising as well, ignoring with a heavy heart Miri’s whimper of pain at the sudden movement and strain as her legs dangled momentarily, she added, “You are a child yourself. How will you take care of her - you can’t even take care of yourself.” Gesturing to his burned face and settling Miri on her hip to hold her more secure, Deshanna held the young Qunari’s gaze, “It is an apprentice’s mistake to use a healing balm made of elfroot to neutralize the wounds. Your face will scar, and badly so.” Then Deshanna shook her head. “She does not even know your name. You are a stranger to her.”

In order to calm his nerves and shaking hands he once again folded his arms and held the keeper's gaze. "Do. Not. Yell." he reminded himself and resisted laughing in the female's face. Was she really arguing his methods of raising her child when she just admitted that she would end Miri's life? This whole situation was ridiculous.

 

"Then she will learn, Keeper. Like I said, she is smart beyond her years." Taj's emerald eyes landed upon violet one and he smiled at her. "As for myself..." Taj's eyes flicked back up to Deshanna's, "I know far more than you think, Keeper. I am fully aware elfroot will scar my face but as I was healing and repairing Miri's ruined knees, she took it upon herself to heal me as well." Taj's eyes narrowed, a smug smirk on his lips. "It was your daughter's handiwork in seeing that I was taken care of just as I had her. Again Deshanna, I say this with no exaggeration. She is smart and worthy of life. I may be young but I know what is right. I have been a man since nine years of age. There is no doubt in my mind that I could provide for and keep your daughter safe.”

 

Taj sidestepped a moment and once again Emerald eyes met violet. "Miri," he said softly, his voice now lowered a few octaves and pointed at her, repeating her name "Miri," Then he pointed at himself and smiled. The little girl tilted her head at his gestures, then pointed at him and in the squeakiest of voices stretched out his name.

"Taj! Taj" Taj" Taj!" He smiled wider despite the pain in his face and nodded again saying his name. "That's right. I am Taj,"

Miri studied him for a moment and then looked up at her mother. "Taj! Halani!" This time she pointed more insistently, "Taj, Halani! Fal--" but she cut herself off and shook her head. "Taj, Lethallin!"

For a moment, Taj contemplated what Lethallin meant. Was it Friend? No, that was Falon. That is what it sounded like she was originally trying to say, but then it came to him and his heart nearly seized in his chest. Clanmate. Family. Taj found no words, and he stared at that lavender hair and little form so full of life. The thought of anyone harming her was out of the question, so beyond his realm of thinking, he honestly didn't know what he would do should Deshanna refuse.

 

"Keeper, for my sake, the sake of the clan, and most importantly for Miri's - give her to me. Make the right decision." The second part of what he wanted to say, '...or so help me if you don’t!' was left unspoken.

Deshanna closed her eyes and nodded, one hand placed against her daughter’s cheek to guide her face up. She spoke entirely in elven now, and Taj watched with cautious eyes the scene. He could not understand what was said, and then his heart seized as the keeper slid her hand in Miri’s lavender-colored hair. From fingertips radiated a bluish-white glow, the little girl’s eyes dropping. She slumped into herself before Taj could react, but then Deshanna pinned him with a hard look in place. Tears swam in her eyes, as she kissed her daughter’s forehead, then held the girl - she was sleeping, as Taj noticed with relief - up to him.

 

“Give me a moment to gather her things,” Deshanna whispered, and all at once the coldness and detachment were gone from her voice. In its stead a mother now, close to tears and oh so vulnerable. It didn’t take long till Deshanna returned, a little backpack over her shoulder, and a stuffed animal in her hand. Giving the former one to Taj, she cradled the stuffed animal - a fennec - close to her lips and kissed it. Her tongue was paralyzed as she placed the fennec in her sleeping daughter’s hand afterward, tiny fingers curling instinctively around the toy. Complete silence had settled, not even the wind rustling in the trees. When Deshanna lifted her gaze, a single tear trailed down her cheek. She took hold of the necklace with the acorn leaf and pulled it off. As if knowing what she wanted, Taj shifted the sleeping little girl in his arms so her mother could slip the necklace over her head. The leaf-pendant came to rest shortly below Miri’s belly button, and long fingers lingered on it a moment longer.

“I erased her memory, before using the sleep spell,” Deshanna admitted, continuing to speak before Taj interject, “She won’t remember her past life. Not her clan. Not me. And I would prefer if it remained this way. No child should grow up with the knowledge that it is unwanted, because of something it had no control over.” Taking a step back, her hands dropped away from the pendant.

“Keep her safe, young Taj. She likes strawberries the most and isn’t used to meat of any kind yet. Bathing is a bit of a challenge, but it always worked in the past when I used soap that made a lot of bubbles. In the evenings, she likes to be sung to sleep and… and…” Abruptly she turned away, eyes squeezed shut tightly. This up and down of feelings, the thought - no, knowledge - that this qunari could give her daughter a chance to live… overwhelmed her. And so, she wasn’t ashamed of her tears as she met his gaze again,

“... Dareth Shiral… May Miri illume your life, as she did mine.” With that, Deshanna turned away, and moved with a stiff gait and squared shoulders towards the treeline. Where her Clan was waiting for her. As she reached them she turned, gifting her sleeping daughter a last, tearful gaze.

“Ar lath ma, Da’len…” Then, they were gone.

 

 

As Taj walked through the forest, with a sleeping Miri in his large arms, he tried to wrap his head around the events that just occurred. Somehow, some way, he had ended up saving a Daish child - the same Dalish child -  twice in one night. Once from Tevinter Slavers... a reasonable threat and again from her own mother, a mind-boggling, infuriating enigma of a female. Yes, he did feel for this female as she described some of her child's favorite things, tears streaming down her cheeks, prepared to say goodbye, - Taj, wasn't completely heartless - yet he had an overwhelming feeling of disdain for the Keeper. The female's actions were repugnant, unacceptable and disgusting. Tradition or not, one cannot go killing a child, and innocent, for any reason... great or small.

Taj hugged Miri closer to his broad muscled chest, and smoothed her lavender hair down as little arms snaked around his neck. He kissed her head and whispered the word "Lethallan," as she squirmed. He was her Lethallan and she was his. From the moment her mother relinquished custody to the Qunari, Miri was his responsibility.  "Mine," he thought. She is mine to protect. Mine to keep and raise and do right by. Taj had to succeed where the little one's mother had failed. Never again would she see hardship or fear the pain of rejection. Never again would she be seen as a burden or a liability, at least never in Taj's mind. And to those who doubt her... she would win their hearts just like she won his. At this moment she was wanted and loved. Yes, loved. "Is this what being a father feels like?" he wondered to himself "Is this what my parents felt for me and my siblings?" It had to be, for Taj could not shake this overwhelming urge to protect and care for this little one.    

 He tucked Miri higher up on his shoulder as he quietly strolled into the mercenary camp. A hush fell over the once chattering band of misfits as they stared at the Dalish child tucked safely in his arms. As he passed, whispers started and Taj knew soon enough Shokrakar would be visiting his tent. Hissra eyed the Qunari as he laid Miri down on the bedroll that his mentor kindly had laid out for him. "Long night?" she said with a telling smirk.

 

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Taj sighed as he tucked Miri in, placing the stuffed Fennec into her arms. He smiled as she curled around the stuffed toy, snuggling into the furs around her.

"They didn't want her did they?" Taj just shook his head unable to take his eyes off Miri "Did the... did the human's defile her?" He shook his head again.

"No." The answer came in barely a whisper.

"Then why did the clan reject her?" Hissra asked softly. "YES. Why did her clan reject her? Care to explain yourself Adaar?"

 

"That was quick..." Taj muttered to himself and rose to his full height, turning to address the mercenary leader. Stern eyes bore down on him as she stood, arms folded over her chest, seething in anger.

"Tell me Adaar, why exactly are you harboring a Dalish child in your tent?" Emerald eyes met her cold black ones, never wavering never faltering. Raising his chin in confidence Taj began to explain.

 

"On my walkabout, I stumbled upon three slavers. They had stolen one of the captured Dalish children and dragged her away to a nearby cave. I found them just as they were about to..." Taj swallowed hard not even wanting to relive what could have possibly happened had he not been there. "...ruin her. They did not, thank the gods but they compromised her kneecaps, shattered them." Shokrakar arched an eyebrow at him, weighing whether or not this story is the truth or Halla Shit. "I ended the slavers and healed her knees as best as I could. She will be able to walk again, of that I am sure, but not well or without assistance."

Before Taj could continue Shokrakar cut him off.

"So you thought it wise to bring her here and not to her clan? And your face? Was that the slavers too or were you practicing your magic again unsupervised? We all know how that turned out last time. Hmm?" Narrowing his eyes at his leader, Taj could feel his temperature rising, his blood boiling in fury. He had always known that Shokrakar had thought him to be weak, and possibly careless but a mistake that happened nearly a year ago does not make him stupid nor a liar. Unable to control his temper Taj spouted off out of turn.

 

"What do you think? Do you honestly think that I would willingly pour acid on my face to hide that fact I may or may not be practicing my magic unsupervised?" He scoffed. Technically.... his leader was right... he did shoot lightning at the one slaver but it was successful, though he would not dare reveal that to her.

"I saved that little girl's life Shokrakar!" Taj hissed in fury. "And what was the first thing I did after? I brought her back to her fucking clan!" The mercenary leader's eyes flared wide at the change of Taj's tone. No one dared speak to her like that especially a youth.

 

"Watch your tone, Boy!" - Boy was pronounced ‘Piece of shit’ - A growl left the lips of the young Qunari, so tired of his leader’s constant scrutiny. 

 

"I will do. No such. Thing! I brought that little girl back to her clan! To her mother, the fucking Keeper! And do you know she told me? It would have been kinder if I had let her die. The moment that innocent girl’s legs were destroyed she no longer mattered to her clan. She was baggage, a liability, and had I left her in her own mother's care she would have been killed. Her mother told me she would drag the blade across her neck herself. THAT! is why I brought her here!" Taj had balled his hands into fists and without realizing it was squaring off against his superior.

"So you interfere with the clan's customs and their rules and brought their liability here?! You bring her to our camp? To be a liability to us? How dare you jeopardize our group for the sake of some mangled elf girl?!" Shokrakar was yelling now and inches from the young Qunari's face. For the second time that night and possibly in his life, Taj had the overwhelming urge to beat a female into the ground. He was shaking, positively vibrating when he felt Hissra's calming magic wash over him, in an attempt to hold him back. Through gritted teeth, Taj tossed Shokrakar's mantra back into her face.

 

"I did what YOU have always taught us to do! I did what was right! NOT what was easy! Those are YOUR words Shokrakar or how easily you forget when something does not benefit you!" Taj took a step back and pointed his forefinger at her in disgust.

"The easy way would have to let the innocent die, The right thing to do was to take her and give her a fucking chance! I did the right thing!"

Again Shokrakar got right up into Taj's face, her chest bumping his. "You. Are not. Keeping her." The leader growled. 

"Watch. Me." Taj countered and sneered.

 

At this point, Hissra spoke up and both yelling Qunari turned. "A word, Shokrakar?" In her arms was little Miri, tears glistening in the child's eyes as she clutched her stuffed Fennec. The moment violet met emerald, Taj's anger melted away and he gravitated towards her. Tiny arms stretched out for him and he complied instantly. Their shouting, obviously the cause for her crying. He cradled her in his arms, trying his best to calm her, as warm tears flowed freely and tiny whimpers slowly subsided. The young Qunari approached the two older ones, his voice now level, his anger in check.  

 

"Useless, and never be able to support the clan... That's what her mother said," As if sensing that the adults were talking about her Miri shifted in Taj's arms and stared at Shokrakar, her face crinkling into a frown as she looked the leader over. "Miri is anything but useless. If your decision is final I will leave. I have been prepared to go since making the decision to take her in."

Shokrakar's eyes flicked between Hissra, Miri and then narrowed when they fell upon Taj.

 

"You are so lucky our Saarebas is fond of you Adaar, for I would not give you so many chances. I will permit you to keep her... for now. But the moment she becomes _our_ liability, I want her gone, whether you choose to go with her is entirely up to you. Is that clear?" Taj's eye twitched and he tightened his grip on the precious life in his arms.

"Crystal," he said dryly. With that Shokrakar pushed past him with one last growl, purposely knocking into his shoulder. As the three of them watched their group’s leader storm off Miri made fake horns out of her forefingers and touched her little fists to her forehead then stuck her tongue out at Shokrakar.

 

"My thoughts exactly...  What an utter-" Taj grumbled while Miri giggled hard and then froze with a squeak.

"What? What's Wro-- Oh! Oooohh!" Warm wetness spread on Taj's side and forearm where he had been holding Miri. "Son of a..." He trailed off trying to figure out what to do when Hissra cleared her throat. Turning around she held up a diaper,  obviously from Miri's backpack. 

"You have a lot to learn, Adaar. But Shokrakar is right about one thing." He side eyed his mentor, skeptically. "You are lucky to have me.

She smiled at him and he kissed the top of Hissra's head. "Indeed."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This little nug will be the death of me - Taj


End file.
